


Under the Radar

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Established Relationship, Exasperation, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5778931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a hunter has to make do with the wrong tools.<br/>(<a href="http://dreamlittleyo.livejournal.com/249274.html">Prompt: Candles</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Radar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rivkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkat/gifts).



"Dean." Sam's voice holds familiar exasperation.

Dean doesn't need to look up to know his brother is glaring at him from across the dull motel room. He can picture the scowl twisting one corner of Sam's mouth as his brother looms beside the skinny table beneath the dark window.

Dean looks up from unlacing his boots anyway.

Sam still holds the plastic bag from the drugstore dangling in one hand. His expression is a perfect match for the image in Dean's head. His posture is careless, and he holds a small yellow box in his other hand.

"Problem, Sammy?"

Sam's scowl darkens. "We can't use birthday candles for an archaic ritual banishment."

"Sure we can."

"Seriously, Dean."

" _Seriously_ , Sam."

Sam drops the box of candles—tiny, twisty, colorful things—to the table, where they land with almost no sound at all. He's glowering harder now. Dean has to fight to keep from grinning as a shadow creases the center of Sam's brow. He'll never admit it to Sam, but pissy is a damn good look on his brother. Not that there are all that many _bad_ looks where Sam's involved. Dean knows a good thing when it's staring him in the face.

"This isn't a game," Sam says, abruptly somber instead of plaintive. "The longer we take settling this spirit, the more people might get hurt."

"Christ, you think I don't know that?" Dean's spine stiffens at the implication in Sam's words. Dean may not have Sam's stony attitude about hunting—he's had to develop thicker skin and a feistier sense of humor to survive in this life—but that doesn't mean he takes any of it lightly. "It's two in morning. There's not even a drugstore open. Those are literally all I could find without breaking and entering. You think the fucking birthday candles won't work, then fine. We'll bust into the Hi-Mart down the street."

Sam deflates at Dean's tirade. The frown fades from his face, leaving something drawn and tired in its wake. Dean is abruptly reminded how thin his brother's been stretching himself, how exhausted Sam has been. As seriously as Dean takes everything they do, it's Sam who always seems to be carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

"Sorry," Sam mutters, setting the bag down and scrubbing a tired hand across his face. "You're right. I shouldn't have bitten your head off."

Dean shouldn't let his irritation go this easily, but the last of his anger is already fading, leaving worry and aching fondness in its wake. He finishes kicking off his boots and rises from the corner of the room's only bed. These digs are small enough that it only takes him three steps to reach his brother.

"It's no big deal, Sammy. Just been too long a day." It's bound to be longer still before they can crash in that bed the way Dean wants to. Their responsibilities won't wait. "You really think we need better candles?"

Sam's laugh is dry, but he shakes his head. "Nah, you're right. They're worth a try. We're on enough radars as it is, last thing we need is local cops trying to hunt us down for petty theft."

Dean is relieved his brother sees things his way. He's not even going to brag about it. He'll just grab the bag of supplies and start setting things up in the almost nonexistent patch of open floor between the bed and the bathroom door.

But Sam intercepts him before Dean has even managed to pick up the bag, grabbing his face and tugging him close for a kiss. It's one of the clumsier kisses they've shared, but Dean sure as hell doesn't mind. He hums approval and tucks himself closer, kissing his brother back even though he knows damn well they don't have time to get distracted.

"What was that for?" Dean asks when Sam releases him.

Sam only smiles, sheepish and shy. "Nothing. Come on, let's get to work."


End file.
